"Everyone, meet my boyfriend Blaine."

Kurt's eyebrows shot up, "Santana, I know you work fast, but this has to be a record."

"Shut up, it's just for show." She groaned.

He looked at me, and I could feel colour rising in my cheeks, "I'm sure you had a whole lot of say in this too?"

It was at that point that I momentarily forgot how to use the English language. Thankfully Santana continued her rant.

"Whatever, he doesn't mind. Also, while you're all here, if anyone expresses and interest in me tonight, please tell them where they can kindly stick it."

"The lady has such a way with words." Cedric smirked.

Santana pointed at him, scowling, "Seriously Cedric, don't even start with me."

He snorted, pulling a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. He jammed one in his mouth and lit it, emitting a wealth of smoke that obscured his face. He and Kurt were wedged on a small, faded two seater sofa and currently Kurt made a show of leaning away from him.

"Cedric!" he yelled.

"What?" he inhaled again, "I'm drunk. We're at a party. Can't I smoke?"

Kurt waved at the smoke with his hands, "It's polite to move away."

"How's this?" he asked, stretching the arm with the cigarette as far as his reach allowed.

"Yeah, so much better." He said sarcastically, crossing his arms and looking away.

"You're such an asshole." Santana glared at Cedric.

He just shrugged and blew a plume our direction.

As far as I could tell from my short exposure to her, Santana was the aggressive type. Even so, she seemed to be sending an excess amount of concentrated rage Cedric's way. I may have just been projecting my underlying irrational dislike of him though.

And I did dislike him. It was ridiculous. From my short exposure to him the only fault I'd gleaned was that perhaps he was arrogant, but other than that I had no reason. Just that I'd caught him kissing Kurt. Still, while it may have been unfounded, it wasn't unashamed. If I could help it, I wouldn't show it.

At this point that was a pretty big if.

Santana loosened her grip on me, "I should probably tell you who everyone is, hey?"

I smiled helplessly, "That would be great."

"OK, you've met Rose, and Professor Tweed here, is Wes."

She was referring to the boy who'd come and dragged Rose away after her diatribe to Puck. They appeared to be attached, both sitting cross legged on the porch, Wes with his arm around her as they spoke intimately.

She continued, "That's David, he's in our class too."

He sat on a beaten up chair next to the girl I'd first spotted Kurt with. Today she had on a peach sundress and cream cardigan, again looking more alive and more vital than most every other haggard student in sight. Santana pointed to her, "And that Little Miss Blondie, is Quinn."

"Hi." She beamed at me, inexplicably filling me with warmth and ease. She was quite gorgeous and she looked like a candy shop. I wanted to be near her, without any clear reason as to why.

I waved, smiling, "Nice to meet you."

"How you doing?" she asked sincerely.

I laughed breathily, "I think I'm a little out of my depth."

"Oh, don't worry. We don't bite."

"I do." Santana added.

"Sorry, most of us don't bite." She pointed at the ground next to her, "Please, sit."

Santana and I both folded ourselves onto the splintered planks as she finished the introductions. She finally indicated the two boys on the sofa. Cedric was whispering in Kurt's ear, and I wrinkled my nose for a second.

"That's Kurt and Cedric. Disgusting aren't they?"

I wondered if she'd caught my look of mild disapproval, or whether she always voiced this opinion.

"They're together," she said, "Obviously. David's gay too, so we're pretty much half way to a pride rally."

"Awesome." I laughed, part of my insides unfurling with hope at the thought of having some people I could potentially confide in, the remainder skulking away at the confirmation of Kurt and Cedric's relationship.

"Rose and Wes are an item too, but when he's not with her, he and Dave are pretty much inseparable. Seriously, you'd think they were the couple."

"Yeah Santana, that's still funny." David drawled.

Quinn stood abruptly, "Does anyone want to dance? I really want to dance."

David looked up at her, "You don't usually bother asking."

"Yeah, but I want to dance with you guys tonight. I always dance by myself."

Santana leaned closer to me, muttering, "She's not kidding. The girl needs to be sedated."

"Please?" Quinn surveyed the group with wide, glistening eyes, already swaying a little.

"Fine." David exhaled, pushing himself to his feet.

I smiled inwardly at the sudden image of him and Quinn crash dancing in the living room. He was wearing a cunningly tailored black coat and grey trousers that looked almost too severe to be allowed. The way they clashed with Quinn's playschool dress-ups was as charming as it was odd. It was no wonder, really that this group of students stood out to me. They evoked an air of the extraordinary. Even of the strange. They were like figures from a Picasso that had somehow found themselves on the stern canvas of a Constable. How was it that I was the only person so intrigued by them?

Quinn linked arms with David, "Anyone else?" she sang.

Cedric stood, "If dancing with you involves me getting another drink, I'm in."

"Yeah, me too." Santana said, "I can't sit still right now."

She used my shoulder to haul herself upright, and I stared up at her imploringly, "You're going?"

She patted my head, "I'll be back. You don't mind waiting here? I might need you."

"Um, sure." I stuttered. If Santana had this sort of influence over me, I shuddered to think what she could convince unsuspecting, smitten straight men to do. It was possible Puck had gotten off lightly.

Abruptly, Wes looked up from where he was sitting, "Where are you going, David?"

"Just to dance." He shrugged.

"Oh, OK." He looked like he wanted to go too, but Rose's arms were twining around his middle, making it pretty clear that he was trapped.

"Let's go!" Quinn chirped. I, and I'm sure the others, expected her to enter the house and join the small group of people dancing there, however, she shocked us all by rocketing down the porch steps and into the yard. She disappeared into the dark and Cedric groaned.

"And there she goes…" he turned to Santana and David, "One of you come with me to find her, and one of you, please get me a drink."

"I'm not getting you a damn drink." Santana spat.

"Fine, then come on. David?"

"Yeah, yeah. See you in a sec."

They went their separate ways, leaving me with Wes, Rose and Kurt. The former two were unfortunately preoccupied, and I twirled my cup in my hands.

"Is she on something?" I asked Kurt, nervously.

He shook his head, "No, that's just our Quinnie. She's worse tonight, because she's drinking, but she's just an endless source of renewable energy. Heaven forbid The Pentagon ever get a hold of her."

I laughed and looked down again. I was undeniably excited to be talking to Kurt. I was overjoyed that he even knew my name, but I had no idea how to handle myself. I simply felt like clumsy limbs and cowlicks and unwanted freckles. I was sure that every time I spoke my voice would break, or I'd stumble and stammer.

Whenever he spoke, I found myself alarmed by how much the timbre of his voice effected me. It was so unlike me to be moved thus. To be so engrossed in another person, when for so long I'd endeavoured to remove myself from genuine connections.

I breathed deeply.

"That said," he continued his previous train of thought, "she's also the Queen of mood swings, so it's not like she exclusively uses her powers for good."

"She seems sweet."

"Oh, don't get me wrong. She's the sweetest." He grinned, "Much sweeter than Santana. You're lucky. Very few men get away from her intact, and look at you; her personal chaperone."

I'm gay.

I'm gay, I'm gay, I'm gay.

"Yeah…" I swallowed.

Way to go Blaine. You tell him.

"You don't have to sit down there." Kurt said, "You can sit up here if you want."

"I'm good!" I blurted loudly, kicking myself immediately after.

His eyes widened a little, "Or not." He drained his cup, pointing to my own, "Want a refill?"

Yes, yes, god yes.

"Sure." Thankfully my voice was holding, but it was raspy. Dry and uncooperative.

Kurt reached beside himself and produced a flat bottle of vodka from where it was wedged between his thigh and the arm of the sofa.

"C'mere." He beckoned, and I shuffled closer on my knees as he unscrewed the lid deftly, with that distinct scraping sound. Aluminium on glass. An ode to alcoholism.

He poured a large measure of spirit into my cup, much more than I'd anticipated, before giving himself the same treatment. I sat back and took a sip, muffling a cough as the harsh liquid scoured my throat. Kurt pulled a small bottle from inside his coat, tipping a little white pill onto his hand, taking it with his drink. I wanted to ask what it was, but of course I didn't. It was probably just antibiotics.

My mind wandered for a while, dazed by my situation and the alcohol. I was talking to him without paying a great deal of attention to what was being said. I'm pretty sure he inquired after my degree, and I learnt that he was studying Literature and Drama. Eventually I became accustomed to his presence though, coming to.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"Westerville, Ohio."

"Oh, I'm from Lima." He said, with little inflection. I thought I saw his face fall.

"You didn't like it?"

His voice turned cold, "There aren't words to express what I think about Lima."

"Oh." It was like a mist had passed in front of him, "Um, where did you go to school?"

"Quinn, Santana and I all went to McKinley High. Do you know it?"

"Mm, yeah. I was…" I paused, tossing up how much credibility I may lose were I to continue, and decided I didn't care, "I was in Glee club at Dalton Academy. We came up against them a few times in competition"

"Really? We probably versed each other then."

"You were in Glee club?"

"I'm just full of surprises."

"Wow. Small world. How did you all end up here?"

"We may study arts, but in the end we're drastically lacking in imagination. We just ended up sticking together. Wes and David are from Ohio too. They went to a boys school. Really, you'd think we all wear signs that say, 'Ohio expat. Let's be friends.'"

"Yeah…"

It seemed mentioning Ohio had been a mistake. He stared into his drink, and I couldn't think of a thing to say, sipping periodically as Wes and Rose continued to whisper next to me, only making me feel more uncomfortable.

"I didn't like Ohio much either." I muttered.

"I hated it." He spat.

And I truly believed him. In those three words I got an impression of some sort of loathing for the place that my own dislike didn't even come close to.

After all, I'd loved Dalton. Not every part of Westerville was tainted. My own wish to leave the place was connected to one boy and a sort of teenage disenchantment. Whatever reason there was for Kurt to hate the place, it was probably considerably less juvenile than my own.

I got the distinct sense that the conversation was over. I felt I'd already made a fool of myself, and Kurt made no attempt to fill the growing silence. He just stared behind me into the house, where it sounded like the party was getting more and more out of hand. I thought I heard Jeff call my name at one point, but he didn't come to rescue me from my awkward predicament.

I gulped the rest of my vodka. It spread through my body and gave me that odd, not unpleasant burning sensation around my heart and stomach.

"More?" Kurt asked, and I jumped.

"Uh huh." I whispered, passing him my cup. At least he was graciously ignoring me.

The two of us just sat there, incredibly out of place in the writhing atmosphere. I don't know about him, but I wasn't thinking about much of anything, replaying our conversation over and over, trying to deduce whether I'd actually done something wrong, or if I'd just innocently hit a certain sore spot.

Fifteen minutes must have passed when Quinn mercifully skipped up the steps, cheeks flushed and hair askew. She crashed onto the arm of the sofa and knocked Kurt on his side.

"Hi again!" she trilled, lying half on top of him.

"Shit, Quinn. Most people wave."

"Most people are boring," she said, dragging herself off him and perching on his lap once he'd straightened up. He mustn't have actually been mad, as he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her waist, closing his eyes.

"Where did you lose the others?" he asked.

"Oh, they're coming." She shrugged.

"I want to go home." He said, "Can we go home?"

"Sure," she stroked the side of his head, and laid a quick kiss on his hair. It was an adorable scene. They appeared so close and so comfortable. The way she had immediately altered his hostile mood was miraculous, like a salve.

I turned to see Santana, Cedric and David trudging up the stairs, looking a little bit flustered.

David ran a hand over his hair, "So, it turns out when Quinn said, 'who wants to dance?' she actually meant, 'who wants to chase me around a dark garden while I hide in trees?'"

Cedric added, "And if we'd known that I'm pretty sure we'd all have answered with, 'not me.'"

"Quinn, come here." Santana yelled, "I'm taking your batteries out right now."

She giggled, "No need, I'm done. Kurt and I are going home."

"Already?" Cedric sat next to him, putting a hand on his thigh.

"Yeah, I'm tired." Kurt murmured.

"Can I come back to yours?"

"Not tonight."

"Please?" he wheedled.

"I'm not in the mood, Ced. Not tonight."

"Fine." He stood, with a barely hidden scowl, "I'm going too. You," he pointed at me, "Blaine right? Have I seen you in Grayson?"

"Yeah," I said slowly, "I think we live on the same floor."

"Want to walk back with me?"

The guy was all business, "OK, sure."

"See you guys tomorrow," he addressed the group as a whole. I expected him to say something to Kurt, maybe give him a kiss. Instead he turned and walked back down the steps, waiting for me at the bottom.

I smiled uneasily, "Well, nice to meet you all."

They all murmured goodbyes, Quinn smiling expansively as Santana came up to me.

"Thanks for being my back up." She said, surprising me by kissing me lightly on the cheek, "I hope it wasn't too terrible."

"Not at all." I mumbled, following Cedric.

We walked around the outside of the house, passing a girl who was being sick in a bush while her friend rubbed her back, and only metres away, a couple somehow finding enough lust in that scene to make out against the fence. I wanted Puck or Sam or one of the others to appear and drag me away.

This was the first time that I'd really been off campus since I arrived at Albarn. I'd not yet had any reason to go into the town. As it was, the house party was only about a ten walk from Grayson. I was happy to stroll in silence, surveying my dim surroundings. Unfortunately, it seemed Cedric wasn't.

"What's in there?" he indicated my cup, which for some reason I was still clutching.

"Vodka."

"Do you mind?" he put his hand out.

"No, you can have it."

My skull felt heavy, and I had the most awful taste in my mouth. I wished that the fresh air would make me feel better, but it just made my head swim. Even as I inhaled, Cedric pulled out his cigarettes, and I closed my eyes for a second, walking blindly.

When I looked across at him he was drawing deeply. The glowing end cracked and popped a little, and the whiff of smoke that I got as it wafted lazily my way was both acrid and sweet. Clove cigarettes. He was much taller than me, and had an Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue kind of face. Honeyed skin and undeniably handsome in a black V-neck sweater. I wondered what he studied, and half hoped it was something like Philosophy or Performing Arts, just to complete his clich�d image.

I coughed faintly, "Do Quinn and Kurt live together?"

"Yeah," he exhaled, "They rent a furnished house off campus."

"How long have you been dating?" I ventured.

He snorted, "I think we're what you'd call an 'on again, off again' couple."

"Oh."

"We've known each other for a year though." He finished the vodka and rested the red cup on a letter box as we passed it, "Kurt can be temperamental. I think he's dumped me about five times now."

I didn't want to hear this. I could see the lights of our dorm now, and my prayers for him to keep quiet until we got there were kindly answered.

We stepped into the fluorescent lights and my stomach lurched as we walked up the stairs and a buzzing filled my ears.

I left him at his door with an incoherent, 'see you 'round,' and fell into my room. I didn't turn on the lights, and my window was open, leaving the room cold. I sipped from a bottle of water on my desk, and collapsed face first onto my bed, shoes and all.

I felt like shit.

I felt inadequate, and I thought I was going to be sick, both from the vodka and from the illusion that seemed to have fallen down around my ears. It wasn't as if Kurt was even that rude to me. It's not like I'd been shunned or ridiculed. In fact, as a whole they were all exceedingly kind to me. Kinder than they had any need to be. Yet for some reason it stung. I hadn't been prepared to feel that way.

At some point I fell into a heavy, spirit driven sleep, my face flattened against my blanket and a searching draft washing over me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TBC